


The Journal

by PrinzessDina



Series: Ghosts of the past [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, mentioned experiments, mentioned rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinzessDina/pseuds/PrinzessDina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A secret experiment, a failed relationship and a journal.</p>
<p>Sometimes the past doesn’t (want to) stay in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journal

Sans was lying in bed, trying to sleep. The only noise being the soothing sounds of the trash tornado, he created a long time ago, and the wind howling against his window. He was happy of the snowstorm that blocked the doors of nearly every house in Snowdin. Undyne called him and his brother early in the morning. Having heard of the half buried village, she put them both off duty, until the storm eased up and every house was dug out. He could hear a bang and Papyrus´ annoyed shout, as his brother jumped out of the window to shovel the entrance of their house free. Snickering, Sans turned to the side, snuggling further into the blanket to get some shut eye. He flinched as something slammed against his window. He turned back around on his mattress, looking at the glass panel. Something seemed to be stuck in the crack between wall and window. With a grunt, the small skeleton rolled out of bed. He stumbled with half closed eye sockets to the goal of his short journey. A piece of paper fluttered in the wind, stuck on a nail that jutted out of the window frame. Confused, he opened the window but was too slow to catch the paper in time before it was blown away. With a silent curse and a sigh, Sans closed the window again.

He turned around, ready to go back to bed, when he got stopped by his brother calling his name. He turned back, seeing the tall, lanky skeleton crouch next to the window. His long, red scarf fluttering in the wind, Papyrus tapped against the window. Sans opened the window, snow blowing in his face. Papyrus had to shout over the howling storm. “SANS, I SAW YOU TRIED TO GET THIS PIECE OF PAPER IN TIME. SEEING, YOU WERE TOO SLOW, I CAUGHT IT. YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE SUCH A COOL BROTHER LIKE ME! NYEH HEH HEH!” His energetic brother handed Sans the paper he tried to catch. “thanks bro. you’re the best.” Giggling, Papyrus struck a heroic pose as best as he could while crouching before grabbing the snow shovel next to him. “WELL, I’M OFF TO FREE OUR HOUSE FROM THE WRETCHED GRASP OF THIS SNOWSTORM! NYEH!” Closing the window, Sans watched as his brother got up, walking to the front of their house. He looked down. Snow covered the ground around the window. He walked back to his bed. He was too lazy to clean it up now. Besides, his curiosity wanted to know what was on the paper. He sat on the worn down mattress, trying to even the soggy paper on the ground. Looking at the result, Sans found himself face to face with what looked like a journal page. Some words undecipherable, he began to read.

 

**_Journal entry #13_ **

_I can’t remember how many weeks have passed since I’ve first come here. ~~\------~~ said that’s normal and I shouldn’t worry about it. I’ve known him for some time, but there is still that nagging feeling of mistrust when I’m around him. I decided to keep an eye out, in case he is indeed hiding something from me. ~~\------~~  hasn’t made any tests since my ~~\--------------~~. Im worried for him. He’s usually so joyful about finding out something new about my body, well, what’s ~~\---- -- --- -------- -----~~ , at least. I know I need to thank him for what he did, but I don’t know how. Every time I decide on some way, he finds out the clues to my subtle questions and tells me not to worry about him. I love him, I really do, but he’s really selling himself short. That dork._


End file.
